


my heart is thrilled by the still of your hand

by AgentBuzzkill



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Fjord Handles Orc Culture In His Own Way, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Light BDSM, M/M, Marking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Well okay there's the smallest thread of plot in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 03:30:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18438125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentBuzzkill/pseuds/AgentBuzzkill
Summary: “You want to mark me,” Caleb says as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. As if the thought doesn’t fill Fjord with a selfish satisfaction. It scares him sometimes, how badly he wants this.Caleb, to his credit, seems enthusiastic about the idea.





	my heart is thrilled by the still of your hand

Xhorhas isn’t entirely what Fjord was expecting it to be. True he didn’t really have much to go off of in the first place, but it’s fascinating to explore.

At least it would be, if their tour guide didn’t seem so intrigued by Caleb.

The elf and Caleb seem to be interested only in their own discussions as Fjord trails behind them through tall library shelves, taking note of every book Caleb expresses interest in with a piece of parchment and pencil. It’s become their standard procedure in libraries: Caleb explores and Fjord takes notes. Caleb’s memory is good enough that he definitely doesn’t need the list of titles Fjord hands him whenever they get back to whatever inn they’re staying at that evening, but Fjord appreciates Caleb indulging him.

Usually though, it’s just the two of them.

Fjord’s never had a problem with the others tagging along with them before. Any time together is worth it for him, even if the idea of spending a whole afternoon in shops makes him want to gouge his own eyes out just so he has something to do besides watch the others browse aisle after aisle of stuff.

But Essik? Fjord’s not fond of Essik.

He watches the elf point something out on the pages of the book Caleb is flipping through, and if looks could kill Fjord would have made sure that the elf was dead where he stood. Though he guessed that wouldn’t matter since apparently his memories could come back through someone else and what the hell had they even gotten themselves into, this all seemed way above their usual areas of expertise--

“Dude,” Beau stage-whispers, sidling up next to him. “You okay? You look like you wanna rip that guy’s head off.”

The elf laughs at something Caleb says and Caleb smiles and Fjord’s blood _boils._

“Nope,” he says, voice strained. “All good.”

Beau doesn’t look like she even remotely believes him but she nods anyway, glancing down for a second.

“Might need to get a new pencil.”

“What?” He looks down. The pencil he’d been holding is now broken, one half on the floor and the other splintering in his hand. “Shit.”

Beau quirks an eyebrow up, looking utterly unimpressed with him. Fjord feels about the same way.

“Whatever you need to say to him,” she says, “just fuckin’ do it.”

“There’s nothin’ to say.”

“Tell that to the pencil.”

And with a slap on his shoulder she’s gone, wandering back to the rest of their group and providing a small bit of cover to prevent other patrons from noticing the book defacing that Jester is currently engaged in.

“So,” Fjord hears and he fights the urge to grit his teeth at the sound of the elf’s voice, “your companion is quite interesting.”

Fjord turns to him, trying to keep a neutral expression. From the amused glint in the elf’s eyes he doesn’t think he’s doing a great job.

“Yes,” Fjord agrees carefully. “He is.”

“Very intelligent. And he seems to be a quick learner.” The elf’s grin widens. “Are you planning on keeping him with you for much longer?”

Essik’s boldness catches Fjord off-guard, and it makes him want to grab Caleb and pull him close and _growl_ and--

“Yeah,” Fjord says instead. He clears his throat, steels his gaze. “We’re together. Caleb’n I.”

“Really?” Essik asks with faux interest. “How surprising. I wouldn’t even have known, seeing as you haven’t marked him.”

Fjord clenches his teeth.

“It’s...not somethin’ we’ve gotten ‘round to discussing yet.”

The elf gives a little laugh.

“Well, do let me know when you tire of him,” he says. “I think he would make for _excellent_ company.”

And yeah, Fjord’s definitely not going to pass that little message along. Before he can formulate a smartass reply the elf has already drifted off back to Caleb, who is excitedly poring over the books in front of him.

Fjord trails behind them, trying to memorize as many book titles as he can in lieu of his broken pencil and failing miserably.

 

* * *

 

Dinner is a quieter affair than usual. All of them being worn out from wandering around town most of the day helped, and beyond polite conversation nobody seemed to have anything of grave importance to discuss. Which Fjord was more than fine with, considering the events of the past few days. He sits back and sips at his ale, content to let Jester and Beau do most of the talking, sticking around until he feels his social obligations have been met (and his flagon is empty). He stands, resting a hand on Caleb’s shoulder and giving it a quick squeeze.

“Headin’ off to bed,” he says with a wave to the others. “See ya in the morning.”

Caleb has a strange look on his face, but Fjord only has a moment to register it before he turns and leaves the room.

He starts to busy himself getting ready for the evening, but he only gets as far as kicking off his shoes and sitting down on the edge of their bed. He could tell at dinner that Caleb was annoyed with him, and Fjord was honestly a little annoyed at himself. He didn’t know what made it so easy for Essik to get under his skin.

Besides being near Caleb. And suggesting books to Caleb. And flirting with Caleb. And resting his hand on the small of Caleb’s back as he passed him between the shelves of the library, glancing at Fjord and grinning--

Okay. Fjord had some idea of why he disliked Essik.

He’d never done well with competition, mostly because in his youth he’d usually been on the losing end of any challenge presented to him. Whether it was for food or attention or friendship, he’d always been the odd one out. The one left behind. The one who was only given attention when it was to laugh at him.

He picks at what’s left of his tusks absentmindedly, scowling at the floor.

If he was meant to compete with a brilliant, attractive, self-proclaimed prodigy in a field of magic that held Caleb’s interest, he may as well start waving a white flag now.

A short knock on the door brings him out of his thoughts, and he’s about to get up and answer it when Caleb comes in.

“Suppose I didn’t need to worry about you being decent,” he says. Fjord gives a little shrug before standing and beginning to remove his armor.

“Maybe I just like to sit on my bed fully clothed.”

Caleb only quirks an eyebrow up, unimpressed.

“What is wrong?” he asks.

“Nothin’,” is Fjord’s quick reply and suddenly he’s very intent on undressing himself and is absolutely not doing everything he can to avoid looking at Caleb. Because that’s what a coward would do and Fjord is not a coward.

“You’re making it very hard to believe you.”

“Yeah, well.” Fjord tries to fake a yawn, turning his back to Caleb. It’s barely convincing, even to him. “Been a long day. ‘M pretty tired. Think I’ll hit the hay.”

“Fjord…” Caleb’s voice is soft but Fjord just keeps his back to him, slipping his armor off and tossing it to the floor. Usually he treats it with a bit more care, but right now he just wants this conversation to be over.

“Fjord,” Caleb says again, this time in a hard tone that brokers no argument, and Fjord freezes.

“Talk to me,” Caleb continues and Fjord hears Caleb’s soft steps approaching him. He feels Caleb’s hand on the back of his shoulder.

He closes his eyes and swallows hard.

“Not much to say.” His voice is more gruff than he intended.

“I think there is.”

And then Caleb’s other hand is on Fjord’s shoulder and he’s turning Fjord around and Fjord opens his eyes, looking down at Caleb. Caleb is concerned, but beneath the concern there’s something else. Anger? Hurt? Fjord wants to make it go away but he doesn’t know how.

“Please,” Caleb says, taking Fjord’s hands in his own, thumbs moving over Fjord’s knuckles as he looks down at their fingers. “What have I done to upset you? I don’t know what I did, Fjord, a-and I just...I need to know. So I don’t do it again.”

Fjord gives Caleb’s hand a little squeeze. “ _You_ didn’t do anything-”

“Then what’s wrong?”

And Fjord knows that Caleb deserves to know. But now that they’re out of that library and away from that elf it feels...ridiculous. Irrational. Embarrassing.

Inevitable.

Caleb’s attentions are bound to shift away from him someday. Fjord just wants to hold that off for as long as he can, however selfish that sentiment may be.

Caleb is still waiting for an answer, and Fjord knows he’s not getting away without giving one.

“I’m just...bein’ stupid, I guess,” he mutters.

“What does that mean?”

Fjord sighs.

“That _guy_.”

“ _What_ guy?” Caleb’s frustration is beginning to show. Fjord cuts to the chase.

“Essik.”

Caleb reaches up, hooking a finger under Fjord’s chin and bringing his gaze up to meet Caleb’s.

“What did Essik do?”

Caleb sounds angry, and it makes Fjord want to look away.

“Nothin’. Just...asked if I planned on...keepin’ you.”

Caleb’s anger fades and Fjord doesn’t know what to _do._ Nothing feels okay and he’s ruining everything with his stupid irrational feelings and he doesn’t know how to make things right.

“And what did you tell him?” Caleb asks carefully, face going completely neutral. He’s starting to put walls up, close himself off, and Fjord scrambles to get him to stop. It’s taken so long for Caleb to be this open with him, months of companionship and conversation and shared meals and watches and nights spent crammed in a small inn bed together, keeping warm while pretending not to notice how well their bodies fit together. It all culminated in a rushed kiss in the heat of battle, Fjord desperate to have one last good thing before they probably all died.

Fortunately they didn’t die. Unfortunately that evening Caleb chewed him out in their room for a long time, demanding Fjord explain how he could do something so foolish. For a moment Fjord thought he was about to be kicked out of the group before Caleb scrambled up into his lap and kissed him.

Things fell into place after that. Mostly. Sort of. They were still figuring some details out and there were some conversations they still had yet to have, but for the moment things were good.

Mostly. Sort of.

“Of course I do,” Fjord finally answers and Caleb sighs. In relief? Fjord could only hope.

“Then why did this bother you so much?”

For someone who enjoyed keeping his own cards so close to his chest, Caleb had an incredible capacity for getting others to admit their secrets. Fjord envied him for that. Sometimes.

“Answer me,” Caleb presses, a familiar authoritative edge to his voice that sends a shiver down Fjord’s back. He answers immediately.

“You don’t need to worry about it.”

Fjord knows that’s the wrong answer the moment it leaves his mouth. Caleb is clearly displeased and his drops Fjord’s chin, stepping away from him and Fjord whines at the loss of contact.

“You know what to do,” Caleb says.

Fjord has become intimately acquainted with that look in Caleb’s eyes. He knows exactly what that tone of voice means.

He nods and sinks to his knees, legs spread just enough to keep himself steady. He clasps his arms behind his back, right wrist in left hand, and looks down at the floor. Fjord knows to wait until Caleb allows him to look up. It’s become a sort-of routine for them; when one has too much going on in their head, the other will help take their mind off of what’s troubling them.

He hears Caleb busying himself about the room, shrugging off his jacket and turning down the covers to their bed and stoking the fire in the fireplace and acting as if Fjord isn’t even there on his knees in the middle of the room.

Sometimes the isolation is fun, being treated as if he were just a fashionable piece of furniture while Caleb moves around him, but it doesn’t feel fun at that moment. It feels like punishment now. Fjord feels ignored. He’s spent all day wanting to crawl in bed and pull Caleb close to him and now Caleb is back to not paying any attention to him and he feels too vulnerable. Too exposed. He is doing his best to keep his back straight, knowing Caleb will point it out when he starts to slouch, but everything inside him is screaming to curl up into a ball and hide.

He’s very nearly about to ask if they can stop, and Caleb must be able to sense his discomfort because he’s suddenly standing right in front of Fjord. Fjord doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath until he suddenly exhales, gasping in fresh air and trying to calm himself down. His hands are shaking.

“Who do I belong to?” Caleb asks. A gentle hand runs through Fjord’s hair, bringing with it a wave of relaxation through his body. He is safe. He is Caleb’s. Caleb is here. Caleb wants him.

His gaze on the floor remains steadfast.

“Me,” he murmurs, but that doesn’t really feel true. Caleb must be able to sense his reluctance because the hand in Fjord’s hair grips and pulls, bringing his face up. Caleb’s eyes are an almost frighteningly bright blue.

“And is my word not enough? What would you have me do to prove that you are mine and I am yours?”

Fjord doesn’t have an answer to that. He figures the question was rhetorical, since it’s difficult to say anything with Caleb’s fingers suddenly in his mouth. Fjord obediently sucks, unsure if he’s supposed to keep his gaze on Caleb or on the floor. Instead he keeps switching from one to the other and he can swear Caleb is almost amused.

“So sweet,” Caleb says and a blush rushes up to darken Fjord’s face at the compliment. “Sometimes you submit so easily.”

He lazily fingers Fjord’s mouth, while Fjord is able to begin sinking down into a pleasant haze of obedience. It’s nice to let Caleb do the thinking for both of them. He has complete trust in Fjord’s submission, and Fjord has complete trust that Caleb will guide them both safely through this. It’s technically mutually beneficial, but Fjord always feels like he gets the better end of the deal.

Which is strange, because he feels the same way when their positions are reversed. Caleb on his knees is a pretty picture.

Caleb pulls his fingers slowly out of Fjord’s mouth. It brings Fjord back to the present as Caleb lightly runs a finger over Fjord’s would-be tusks. Caleb hums, admiring his work for a moment.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong now?” he asks before moving his hand away completely. Fjord shuts his mouth and considers not answering, but then he glances back up at Caleb.

“They have no way of knowing... Anyone who looks at you-“

“Are you that afraid that I will stray from you?” Caleb interrupts. There’s a slight twinge of hurt to his tone and Fjord scrambles to correct himself.

“No! No. I don’t think you would. I just...” He looks back down at the floor and adjusts his grip on his wrist behind his back. “There’s nothing to stop anyone else from trying to...pursue you.”

“You want to mark me,” Caleb says as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. As if the thought doesn’t fill Fjord with a selfish satisfaction. It scares him sometimes, how badly he wants this.

Caleb, to his credit, seems enthusiastic about the idea.

“How would you do it?” Caleb asks and Fjord swallows hard, trying to string a coherent sentence together from the jumble of words in his head, from the rolling boil of emotions in his gut.

“Anyway you want. Any way that makes you feel good. And right when you’d come—“ he glances up, not at Caleb’s face but at a bit of exposed skin right above the neckline of his shirt, “I’d bite. And leave the mark.”

Caleb’s fingers scratch the back of Fjord’s neck and he closes his eyes, worried that at any point he’ll freak Caleb out and this will all be over.

“You don’t have to...I don’t need to do it,” he says quickly. “I’d understand.”

He’d understand if Caleb didn’t want to tie himself to Fjord forever. It would hurt, but he could get over it. He was just grateful for any amount of time he could spend with Caleb, even if it wouldn’t last. Caleb could move on when he found someone better and smarter and handsomer who didn’t have to scar their partner to prove that they were devoted to them for life and Fjord would do his best to be happy for him.

He hears the creak of the floorboards under them as Caleb shifts, and then Caleb is taking Fjord’s face in his hands. Tilting his head up. Pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I want it,” Caleb says, barely above a whisper. “Give me your hand.”

Fjord obeys, the back of his hand fitting easily against Caleb’s palm. Caleb guides Fjord’s hand up, pressing his fingers to his neck.

“Show me,” he says. Fjord dares to meet Caleb’s eyes and his gaze is intense. Burning. Fjord’s hand moves, tracing over a spot on the left side of Caleb’s neck, right above his collarbone.

“Here,” he says and Caleb leans in.

“Kiss it,” he orders.

Fjord obeys.

He doesn’t dare do anything beyond what Caleb tells him, though he’d love to take Caleb in his arms and bring him even closer. Fjord licks his lips before pressing them to Caleb’s neck, sucking ever so slightly at the spot he’d love to sink his teeth into most. Caleb makes a soft noise of satisfaction, scratching at the cropped hair on the back of Fjord’s neck, and Fjord can’t help the growl that rumbles deep his chest.

It’s close to a purr. He’s just glad Caleb likes cats so much.

Caleb pulls away when he’s satisfied. Fjord leans forward a bit without thinking, chasing Caleb’s skin as he moves out of Fjord’s reach. Before he can begin to worry again Caleb is running a hand through his hair.

“Get up, _liebling_. Strip for me and lay down on the bed.”

Fjord moves the moment he’s allowed to. It might be the fastest he’s ever tried to get undressed, still-shaking fingers fumbling with his clothes until finally they’re all on the floor and he can do as Caleb asked.

“Hands above your head,” Caleb says from the other side of the room, where Fjord had dropped their minimal luggage. He raises his hands over his head, crossing his wrists as a warm sensation runs through his veins. Within moments Caleb is back, fully naked and running a hand idly over Fjord’s chest.

Caleb gets up onto the bed and straddles his chest. One hand moves to grip Fjord’s wrists, the other running through Fjord’s hair and holding on tight. He looks up and meets Caleb’s eyes and Caleb is smiling down at him. It’s sweet, but Caleb’s eyes betray his lust.

“You’re going to suck my cock,” he says. Another wave of arousal floods Fjord, his mouth already beginning to open even as Caleb continues, “And then I want your cock in me, so you’d better be ready for that by the time I’m finished.”

Fjord nods, trying not to appear too eager but probably failing miserably. Caleb chuckles, a low warm sound, and brings his hips forward. Fjord closes his eyes and opens his mouth. Between Caleb’s hands keeping his head still and his wrists pinned down Fjord can’t move much, but Caleb seems to prefer it that way.

Fjord tries to focus on keeping his teeth as out of the way as possible as Caleb begins to fuck his mouth.

His eyes flutter closed and he gives a low moan, knowing it will add to Caleb’s stimulation, but Caleb tightening his grip on Fjord’s hair catches his attention.

“Eyes up,” he says and Fjord doesn’t even think before opening his eyes again, keeping his gaze up on Caleb.

It’s easier to sink down, then, as he watches Caleb take his pleasure. Caleb bites his lip, murmurs Zemnian words Fjord can barely catch as he slowly pumps himself in and out of Fjord’s mouth, and Fjord shifts just slightly under him. Getting more relaxed, more comfortable. He continues to moan, doing what little he can to add to Caleb’s pleasure. He wants to be good. He needs to be good. He needs to prove that he’s worth keeping around, not just as a partner in battle or as a friend but as a lover. He treasures the closeness he’s been able to form with Caleb, and he truly doesn’t know what he’ll do if Caleb decides he doesn’t want him anymore.

For him, Caleb is all that he needs.

 _Mate_ , a primal voice in the back of his head growls but he shoves it back. It isn’t time for that yet. What he wants doesn’t matter right now, all that matters is doing as Caleb says.

Speaking of, Caleb’s thrusts have begun to quicken. It’s fascinating, watching him get so incredibly close to the edge. His self restraint is enviable, and Fjord can taste precum in the back of his throat before Caleb suddenly stops, legs shaking just a bit as he clutches Fjord’s head in both hands and breathes hard.

“Oh,” he says softly. “Fjord. I need…”

While his hands aren’t being held down, Fjord still doesn’t dare move a muscle. He waits for Caleb’s order.

Caleb slowly pulls out of Fjord’s mouth, leaving an obscene trail of saliva trailing down Fjord’s chin. He admires the sight for a moment, smiling down at Fjord, and Fjord thinks he could bask in the warm sun of Caleb’s approval for the rest of his life.

“I’ll be right back,” Caleb says softly. “I’m just going to get some oil. Are you okay?”

Fjord nods. Caleb gets off of his chest and the initial shock of him suddenly being gone does pull Fjord a bit too quickly back to complete awareness. The loneliness is stark, the worry that Caleb will go away and leave and never come back, and he squeezes his eyes shut. Tries to steady his breathing. Caleb is fine, he’s coming back, he’s fine, he’s coming back, he’s fine--

And then a hand is running through his hair, and he opens his eyes to see Caleb standing over him.

“I am here, _schatz,_ I am here,” he murmurs, bending down to press a kiss to Fjord’s forehead. “How are you doing?”

“Better,” Fjord says, trying to angle his nose to nuzzle Caleb. “Better, just...touch me?”

He’s able to focus on his own arousal then and every inch of him feels like too much. Too tense, too warm, too hard, too needy, pulled taut and waiting for Caleb to make the next move. To tell him what to do. Caleb obliges his request, running the tips of his fingers down the center of Fjord’s chest and over his navel before barely skimming over the base of his cock and Fjord practically keens. The wanting deep in his stomach is white-hot, searing him from the inside out, and he stares up at the ceiling with wide eyes, mouth agape.

Caleb climbs back on him then, now completely naked, and with a quick “eyes on me” Fjord’s gaze is back down, watching Caleb’s every move. He pours a bit of oil on his palms, setting the bottle aside and rubbing his hands together to warm the oil before reaching behind himself. He bites his lip, brow furrowing.

“Give me your hand,” he says, a tinge of frustration to his voice. He grabs Fjord’s wrist the moment it’s offered, pulling it towards him. A bit of oil is spread on his fingers and it’s instinct to help reach back between Caleb’s legs. He’s already slick and it’s easy for Fjord to sink a finger inside him.

“That’s it,” Caleb groans. “Move your hand. Just like that…”

At Caleb’s instruction Fjord adds a second finger, then a third, and then after a few moments of letting himself get acclimated to the stretch Caleb is riding Fjord’s hand.

“So beautiful,” Caleb says. “And all mine. Spread out and obedient. Waiting so patiently. Gods, Fjord, _es fühlt sich so gut--”_ _  
_

And Caleb is lost in his own pleasure, so much so that Fjord grows a bit bold in the absence of his attention. Fjord crooks his fingers without warning, testing the limits of Caleb’s patience, and the choked moan he gets in return makes him grin. It was easier than usual to find the spot that made Caleb weak, and he’s about to try to hit it again when Caleb’s grip on his wrist tightens.

“Do _not_ forget your place,” he hisses. His other hand grips Fjord’s hair again, pulling hard enough for Fjord to give a hiss of pain. Caleb leans down, lips nearly touching Fjord’s ear.

“You do as I say,” he hisses. “ _Du bist mein_. Do I need to punish you?”

“N-No,” Fjord quickly. “Please-”

But then Caleb is sitting up, pulling Fjord’s fingers out and shoving his hands above his head again.

“Stay _still_ ,” he says. “The more you move the longer I will take.”

Fjord nods as Caleb’s fingers wrap around his cock. It’s already difficult, the temptation to buck up into Caleb’s grip is strong and the slow strokes Caleb is giving it are not helping matters at all. Fjord groans, turning his face to hide his noises against his shoulder. If Caleb notices he doesn’t comment on it, too busy slicking Fjord’s cock up with more oil before straddling it.

He sinks down the length, a tight heat around Fjord, and _gods_ it’s already torture. Fjord’s mouth is open but no sound is coming out, not until Caleb begins to move. Then all bets are off.

Caleb rides Fjord as if he has all the time in the goddamn world to enjoy himself, and Fjord knows he’s going to remember this the next time their positions are reversed. The roll of Caleb’s hips is languid, a lazy self-satisfied smile stretching the corners of his mouth up as he lays his hands on Fjord’s chest.

“Now this is what I needed. _Oh, lieblich,_ yes...feels so good.”

Fjord chances a glance at Caleb and Caleb is watching him intently. His pupils are blown wide, leaving very little of the blue in Caleb’s eyes that he loved so much. Caleb begins to move in earnest, watching every reaction on Fjord’s face as he tries to contain how good it feels.

“Who are you?” Caleb asks and Fjord is so glad he isn’t too far gone to forget the answer Caleb wants to hear.

“Y-Yours,” he stammers, pleasure keeping the words lodged in his throat until he forces them out. “I’m yours, Caleb, all yours.”

“And who am I?”

Fjord bites into the skin of his own arm, legs shaking with the effort to not move, to stop himself from thrusting up into Caleb like he so desperately wants to do. He needs to be good, he needs to be good heneedstobegood because if he is Caleb will be proud. Caleb will reward him. And all he needs to live is Caleb’s praise.

“ _Mine,”_ Fjord practically growls. “You’re mine.”

Caleb’s hands dig into his chest, blunt fingernails leaving crescent-moon imprints. His movements are becoming erratic, and the slip of his own carefully crafted self control is almost endearing. The blush coloring his face has spread, making his chest a warm pink under the freckles spotting his skin. He bites his bottom lip, blinking fast, his hair falls down in his face. His measured composure is abandoned in the pursuit of his release and it’s the hottest thing Fjord has ever seen.

He can feel the scar on Caleb’s palm, resting right above his heart.

Caleb bends down, his own chest against Fjord’s as he wraps his arms around Fjord’s shoulders. It’s a bit awkward, with Fjord’s hands still held above his head, and with a little noise of frustration Caleb pulls Fjord’s wrist out of his grip.

“Touch me,” he says quickly. “Anything. Fjord, _bitte_ , kiss me-”

And that’s all the encouragement needs before Fjord’s hands are all over Caleb, running over his back and down to his hips and gripping them hard, claws digging into soft flesh. His mouth meets Caleb’s and he swallows the desperate little noises Caleb is making with each roll of his hips. Caleb’s cock, now between their stomachs, is finally receiving some attention and Fjord can tell that Caleb is getting close to the edge. He breaks their kiss and Fjord ducks his head down, finding the spot he intends to mark and kissing it.

“Do it,” Caleb says, pulling Fjord as close as he can and it still doesn’t feel like enough. “I am yours Fjord. Nobody could ever compare, no one could come close.” His tone is bordering on manic, desperate to make Fjord understand.

“I want you, _liebling_. Always you. Only you. Bite me, Fjord, and make me yours…”

And Fjord wants to open his body, to part his ribcage and keep Caleb safe under his heart forever, to melt together with him, blood and brains mixing until they are one, until nothing can tear them apart ever again, until even death balks at the thought of one living without the other. And Caleb is here, in Fjord’s arms, begging to be tied to Fjord in the most important way Fjord could ever tie himself to someone. And through the nearly unbearable pleasure, through Caleb’s warmth surrounding every inch of him, Fjord feels tears prick at the corner of his eyes. And he feels a swell of love pouring from his heart and flooding every inch of him.

 _Mate_ , the voice says, more insistent than ever, and Fjord finally indulges in it.

With a choked sob he bites down, and Caleb cries out in ecstacy. His pulse thrums in Fjord’s head and as Caleb shudders against him Fjord feels the warmth of Caleb’s release over his stomach. The rush of adrenaline and emotions is almost too much, but almost without warning his own pleasure claims him. As if his body is already accustomed to meeting Caleb’s halfway. He can’t help the movement of his hips then, burying himself further into Caleb and staying there until Fjord has given every bit of himself that he can.

He’s dimly aware of settling back down into the sheets, of Caleb gingerly getting off of him and returning with a cool wet cloth. He cleans them both off as Fjord comes back to himself, taking Caleb’s hand as he dabs at Fjord’s stomach with the cloth and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. There’s a dark smear on Caleb’s skin and as he licks his bottom lip Fjord realizes it’s blood. Caleb’s blood. He marked Caleb.

The panic that he anticipated isn’t there. Instead there is only satisfaction, magnified by Caleb settling in next to him in the bed. Fjord pulls him close immediately, nuzzling at his neck and checking the mark. Sure enough it’s there, right in the spot he’d always imagined for it, bright pink skin around deep red marks that will scar so beautifully.

Caleb wraps his arms around Fjord, breaking Fjord’s attention on the mark and shifting it to Caleb’s nose in the crook of his neck.

“You were so good,” Caleb whispers, just loud enough for Fjord to hear. “So good for me, Fjord.”

In the silence, Fjord hesitates. Surely he shouldn’t be nervous, but he still can’t help it. Even now, a bit of doubt is still there. But the haze of his afterglow and the pleasant warmth of Caleb in his arms helps him swallow his fear.

“Love you,” he says. One hand runs up along the curve of Caleb’s spine, nails providing just enough pressure for a satisfying back scratch. “I love you so much, Caleb. Thank you-”

“And I love you,” Caleb interrupts gently. “And you’ve given me a gift. And I take that gift very seriously, even if I will try to be worthy of your heart and your trust until the end of my days.”

“No need,” Fjord replies, voice growing low with sleep. “Already yours. Always yours.”

Caleb hums thoughtfully, still not seeming to be convinced, but he drops the subject as his own sleep takes him.

They still had many conversations ahead of them. They had years upon years of successes and failures and trials and triumphs, whole lifetimes to learn and grow and love. And they would have their share of problems. There would be days that would test their bond, nearly to its breaking point.

But they would make it work. They always did.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank Matt Mercer for bringing Hot Drow Prodigy Essik Theylas into my life and giving me the perfect foil for Fjord to just get. Unimaginably jealous. 
> 
> Bigger thanks to the Widofjord discord who encouraged me with every snippet of this that I threw up into the chat. You're all angels. 
> 
> Comments, criticisms, kudos are all appreciated. <3


End file.
